Maryam sets down her burger and takes a sip of her soda before staring me down. "You should go to HR."

"I should speak to him again."

"You've spoken to him countless times. For effective communication to work, both people have to be open to talking productively. And listening to the other person's concerns. I took a seminar on communication last year. It's a cornerstone. If one side is a brick wall, you're buggered. Jack is that wall, and the real problem is that he's bricking it up with other people on the team."

"None of them are technically breaking any company policies. You and I have both read through them."

"We have which is why you need to be more insistent with HR that the company policies are outdated. They will sack me, but they won't sack you." She swipes a French fry through mayonnaise. "You were all about busting the patriarchy when you arrived, what happened?"

Ash happened. In some ways, it's good he's softened me. It means he's kept his job far longer than he would have with the strictly American version of Paige, and I don't regret that change one bit. But it also means I've become more lenient at the office, and where leniency has been an asset at home, it's allowed people like Jack to maintain a foothold at work.

Of course, it's not all my fault. Rules that I expected to be in place aren't there or the company's enforcement is half-assed or inconsistent.

"I've got a few friends who went into Human Resources, and I can reach out to take a peek at their policies, if you want." Maryam dipped another French fry before popping it into her mouth.

I shouldn't have to tell HR how to do their job or how to adapt their policies to protect their employees, but it's become increasingly more apparent that at least the English branch of RR Mullen needs revisions. Since every country has their own local laws, HR rules and policies aren't universal.

When Maryam checked the dates on our current HR code of conduct, the last major revision was in the early 2000s. Why the policy has never appeared on someone's radar as an issue is beyond me, but it would explain the staff turnover. If the current rules protect the bad employees and leave the good ones to fend for themselves, we're looking after the wrong people.

As companies age, they either move with the times or they die off. No one is immune to progress. Sometimes you don't need to change the world; altering the bit around you can be just as impactful. My team needs an overhaul in work ethic and attitude, and to do that effectively, the code of conduct has to progress with the times.

"If you can get those from a few of your friends in a similar industry," I say, "then you and I can go through them and compare it to what we've currently got. Maybe if I go to HR with proposed changes and concrete reasons for the changes, they'll be more receptive."

"One can hope," Maryam says. "I overheard Catherine say she's put in applications for other jobs."

Catherine was one of the best workers and team members I had. Whenever I was in a meeting, I could count on her support, and her stellar ideas. She'd be a big loss. I make a mental note to speak to her in private about whatever is causing her to seek employment elsewhere.

Back in Michigan, my personal life was in constant turmoil with the hiring and firing of various nannies, but here, my stress stems from my job. If I had to choose, I'd prefer work stress over home stress, even if the latter should be more within my scope of control.

When I leave work at the end of each day, I know whatever has happened won't matter all that much once I walk through the front entrance. Even when my house is a mess, it doesn't feel like my life is a mess.

"How's things with Ash?" Maryam asks. "You two seemed very close at his daughter's birthday party."

"He's the best nanny I've ever had." The best everything I've ever had, but I'm not letting that detail slip past my lips.

"I would be having all sorts of naughty thoughts if he lived in my house." Maryam waggles her brows. "He must have some fault."

If I was honest, he's not the perfect nanny, and if I dug out one of my old scoring sheets, he'd fail in many respects. My laundry is sent out every week because he kept ruining my clothes, and while his cooking and cleaning skills have come a long way, there are still days when I cringe at the mess when I walk in the door, or I smile through a bite of something tasteless.

But his positives far outweigh any negatives. He's kind and patient and he tries so hard, no matter the task, no matter what I ask of him. Considering the tough, wary exterior he presents at a first meeting, he has the biggest heart.

"For me," I say, "he's exactly what I need."

"Hard to believe Chloe's mother left him," she says with a sigh. "Just goes to prove that no one is a good fit for everyone, I suppose."

"Yeah," I agree, but uncertainty skitters across my spine. The other honest response, if anyone understood what Ash and I have morphed into once the kids are asleep, is my fear that he'll never be over Imogen. Not just that she'll return and want him back, but that he'll never truly let her go. She lives inside him in a way I'm not sure I ever could. I wasn't built to inspire a grand passion. "I can't imagine she won't regret that someday."

"Took me years to realize how foolish I'd been in my youth," Maryam says. "Perhaps she'll come around before her daughter is too much older."

"Maybe." I take a long slurp of my soda, and I try not to analyze the conflict burning inside me. If she returns, Ash and I are over, and so for my own selfish reasons, I hope she doesn't come to that realization until after I've returned to Michigan. That's one reunion I've got no desire to witness.

~ * ~

We've just finished going through November's organizational calendar, and Ash leans against the counter with his spoon poised over his bowl of ice cream. Once the cooler weather hits, I can't eat ice cream. To me, it's a three season treat. Who wants their insides cold when everything outside is cold too?

"You and Joey share a birthday?" His tone brims with disbelief. "What are the chances of that?"

"We weren't supposed to," I say. "He was two weeks late. He should have been an end of October baby."

"I can't believe I never asked the date before now. Knew you were both in November. But on the same day?" He scoops up another spoonful. "What we gonna do to celebrate? Needs to be something proper good."

"Oh, I—" I shake my head. "I just celebrate Joey. Birthdays aren't really—I mean, I'll be thirty-three."

"Not too old to be celebrated." Ash cocks an eyebrow, and he eats his ice cream.

It's not that I think I'm too old so much as once Joey was born, the focus slid to him. Since I didn't have a partner, I spent the run up to our mutual birthday making plans to mark my son's milestones, and when I told everyone in my family not to make a big deal over me, they listened. Truthfully, most people would. Birthdays are for kids.

"Middle of November." He taps his temple with his index. "Got it locked in."

"I might rent out one of the indoor playgrounds near Bedford. Can you help me figure out who to invite? It would be pretty boring, otherwise."

"Right, yeah. He's made some mates at the library circle thingy we go to. I reckon I could mention it there. And we've got a few families we speak to on Saturday at the pool, don't we?"

We do. Not sure why that didn't occur to me. Probably because we're living a blatant lie on Saturdays. All the families we chat to think Ash and I are a couple. We never corrected them when they assumed, and now it's gone too far to do it without creating a fuss. Likely following my lead, Joey hasn't called Ash, Nanny Ash, in a long time, so there wasn't even that natural segue once we were talking.

"It might be weird," I hedge, "to bring people who know we're not together with people who think we are?"

The sound of Ash's spoon scraping against the bowl halts, and he glances up at me. "Fair point. If we just keep them from speaking to each other, I reckon it'll be alright."

I laugh and shake my head. "Can you imagine running around trying to prevent certain people from talking while watching Joey and Chloe and keeping all the mechanics of a child's party moving forward? Cake. Presents. The mess."

"Live in the chaos with me, Paige," he says, and he slides the dishes into the sink before reaching for me.

"I live in the chaos with you every day when I walk in the house and don't lose my mind at the mess."

"Your restraint is very much appreciated." He skims his lips across the sensitive spot below my ear, and I clutch his biceps in response. "I'll reward you for it later."

"Will you?" I breathe against his ear. "Will you call me a good girl while you give it to me?" The confidence I glimpsed the first night we were together has grown exponentially in the last few weeks. I've never been so adventurous with another man, but I've also never felt so fully accepted.

He squeezes my ass and draws me flush against him before kissing me deeply.

Chloe is napping, but Joey is just in the other room playing. Any moment, his little feet could signal his arrival, but it's getting harder and harder to keep every scrap of affection for after bedtime.

"Ash!" Joey calls from the living room. "Ash! Play footie?"

I break the kiss and step out of his embrace, but then the way he's gazing at me as though he could take me right here on the floor causes me to lean in and kiss him on the cheek.

"Later," I say.

"Definitely," he says, and he pats me on the ass before stepping around me and going to Joey.

I watch him go, and I marvel at how easy things are between us. Effortless, and I'm not sure if that's because there's a ticking clock and we've both resolved to make the best of whatever time we've got, or if we're really this compatible.

After Flora and Toby showed up here, Ash crafted an email that he had me proofread about needing time and space to come to terms with Imogen leaving and them wanting a spot in Chloe's life. Since then, we haven't heard a peep from them. Ash said they wrote back saying they understood, and they'd be waiting when he was ready.

Deep inside, a warning sounded at any of them getting a foothold in Ash and Chloe's life again. We seem to pretend Chloe doesn't have a mother out there somewhere, but it will become so much harder to ignore the truth when he's faced with Imogen's betrayal on a regular basis.

For him, it would probably be better to deal with her parents and what happened with Imogen head on, and I should want that for him. Healing. Growth. Acceptance. A loving extended family for Chloe. But I'm terrified, absolutely terrified, that all those things will mean the end of us. He's only been with Imogen and me, and I can't help thinking I'm the rebound. The temporary connection meant to either propel him forward or make him come to terms with what he already lost.

"We're going out to the garden," Ash calls. "Can you listen for Chloe?"

"Yep, no problem." I go to the window that gives me a clear view of the garden, and I watch them playing together.

We've got five months left together, and I want to cling so hard to every single day that I'm afraid I might scare him off. No one wants a rebound to lose their head, and I fear mine is already lost in the clouds of what if and if only.

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